Deep Thought
by my lovestory13.com
Summary: I was sitting on a bench while having a little journey to the past when a breathtaking beauty shared a deep thought to me. ET


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The first taste of winter enveloped my physical structure one cold morning. Although I was already wrapped up with thick coverings, I could still feel the freezing breeze brushing my skin and the fallen pieces of the white sky simply landing into me.

The first taste of winter embraced me with a lonely and distant feeling. Even though I'm already coated with the happy surroundings, I could still feel the forlorn singing of the cold gentle wind sending me chills down my nerves and the crying of the sky along with the mourning of my abandoned heart longing for someone so out of my reach.

The first taste of winter is the first taste of eternal loneliness.

"_Wouldn't it be so enchanting if some goddess would brighten up my wintry morning with a smile?"_ a male voice came into my memory.

I smiled at the thought of him saying that. Isn't it romantic? It was one of the rarest moments that someone would see me wearing a long face. Thank God, he was the ONLY person who caught me in that mood and never will I allow someone to see me as a grumpy old woman like that except _him_.

"_And now, you had just cursed the birth of the dark mist overpowering the silver puffs of angels coming down to admire you." _I could hear his compliment after I shared a simple dimply beam.

I love to say this but I hate him so much.

I hate him asking me, after a long cold unnerving stillness and after the blow of the soft breeze, he would ask me, "_What are you thinking?"_

"_Thinking what?" I threw back the question to him just to escape the worst question of all. Of all the questions, why that? Did he know too well that it has only one answer? Him. I'm thinking of him._

"_I saw a lady staring at nowhere and never ever blinking for once in her life. She does seem to be drowned from her unfathomable imaginings, isn't she?"_

_I nodded unconsciously, blind of the fact that he was referring to me._

"_So, why are you drifted in a midday's dream?" he asked again in a joking tone yet, hoping for a right answer to be revealed._

"_I'm not daydreaming or whatsoever. I am just in uh," I paused, scanning the vocabulary cabinet in my brain. I am 'fantasizing of you and me in a snowy winter's night playing like little childhood sweethearts, running and chasing each other. Happiness is painted emotionally in our faces and smiles. I have many words, but I was left nothing but, "deep thought."_

"_Deep thought. Wow!" he exclaimed, but then his voice fainted into a whisper with a hint of sadness, uneasiness, confusion, and uncertainty. "It should really remind me of you."_

_Despite of its faintness and inaudibility, it reached clearly and completely in my hearing like it was a deafening echo of silence, a bad music, a deaf-tone voice that caused me to tremble, fear of what I might have to hear from him." And what does that mean?" I asked half-confused, half-worried as my feeling of anger was ranging up like fire supplied with much oxygen to grow its fury as the tension of my heart build up unbelievably._

_HE sighed heartily as he shut her eyes tight like not wanting to open it, breathed in deeply, and let out a deep sigh again._

"_Tomoyo-san."_

_I felt my heart skipped at that moment. He said my name like it was a treasure in his chest he swore to be keeping his heart for as long as he lives._

_He stared at me like forever was in his smiling eyes. His content smile was telling me something he ought to tell, but too hard to express. His smiling eyes were telling me fully of what he should speak of, but nothing came, not even a word or two. _

_He just smiled._

_He hugged me tightly not wanting to let go until I was so out of air, I couldn't breathe._

_A kiss in the cheek._

_Then he left me._

_That was the first and the last time I heard him calling out my first name._

"_Eriol-kun." I whispered, although the words were impossible to reach his ears._

And now, I am here again waiting for him to come back to me, to let love lead his way back into my arms, in the same place, same night and same winter winds where he left me, where I died of coldness and longing. I am sitting here again on the same bench where he saw me frowning like an old woman hating the whole world for it's being round and around.

Why was I so sad at that winter day ten years ago? I really can't recall visibly. There were only two words that come into my mind whenever I reminisce that long-forgotten day. Marriage. _Arranged._

That day was so hard to suppress, so I tried putting it off my mind, but I hardly can. That day when he only said one compliment to make me smile, it's as if he was especially made to stop the world from rotating. Then our casual conversation continued fluently like it was a graceful river flowing in a smooth pathway, but then something blocked that brook from flowing – a sad leaf fallen down from a withered tree.

I could still hear his voice saying my first name in a sad and solemn symphony. Closing my eyes to feel again the warmth of his voice in my every skin, _"Tomoyo-san,"_ the sound felt so real like he was just beside me right now.

"Tomoyo-san," the familiar masculine voice came out again so naturally although I didn't repeat it in my mind, but this time, the agony and torment in his voice were so evident that I could hear every inch of sorrowful soul in it.

As it disrupted my little journey to the past, my heart thumped wildly until I was panic-stricken. I felt so worried at his humming that I fearfully open my eyes to stop thinking of the echo of his voice suffering in so much pain, just to see rigid form before me.

He was standing partly in front of me, his back facing me. If I had known better, he wanted to sit at the vacant space on my right, but was afraid to ask or disrupt me because I had been wandering around a different world for quite a time now that even I couldn't see the people around.

Dressed in a black leather trench coat, he stood firmly at his position as he was smiling sweetly, admiring the happy feeling shown just in front of us - children enjoying their first ice skating experience with their parents escorting them, lovers sharing their wonderful thoughts of the simplicity of environment while clasping their hands as if never wanting to let go of each other. It is just like the warmth feeling that a burning fire provides despite of the huge iceberg circling around the vicinity.

The falling snow gave the dignity of the soul-melting scene I had realized _just now_ after this man came in.

He sighed heavily as if he was completely satisfied of the winter panorama, and then he took the vacant space of the bench I was also occupying. He was very comfortable to be with despite the stunning silence between the two of us. It felt as though his presence was enough to ease away my feelings of yearning and loneliness.

I didn't know he was holding something until he put a rectangular shaped thing covered with a cream white cloth onto his lap, caressing it as if it was his very first and only love. I guessed that might be the only memory she left for him.

He spoke words that I couldn't understood quite so.

"You know, you are beautiful," he remarked, still stroking the thing on his lap. Despite the cold temperature, I felt my cheeks grew hot as his words registered into my ear.

'Was he referring to me?'

"Yes,"

'Oh! I didn't know he is an excellent mind reader. Very impressing, I should say.'

"Thank you." He breathed in heavily, cherishing the sweetness of the air. I caught a side glance at him. His eyes, deep blue like the ocean, looked around to feel the environment once again. His hair, bluer than his eyes, was beautifully messed up that gave his look a little more natural look. So damn handsome and quite familiar, too.

'Had we met before?'

"It seemed only yesterday when I was here," he began to speak, trying a forced smile on his lovely façade, but he wasn't really happy because of the _yesterday_ he was saying, I could totally feel it.

He continued solemnly, still touching every inch of the mysterious rectangle like he was talking to it. "I sat at the same wooden bench in the same cold winter's morning _once_ in my yesterdays, but there was something missing -"

'What?'

"You probably be asking what's missing. No, it's not _what_, but _who_." He smirked. I could almost melt at that kind of smirk. It made me feel I am the most beautiful soul in this whole place. Oh…

I disregard my thoughts about him talking to the cloth-covered thing. With a few minutes after our conversation started, I had fully convinced myself that he was talking to me, and that his answers were for my questions. How could he smoothly form a conversation to someone else other than me when we are the only souls in this wooden bench?

Dismissing my thoughts, I continued asking him, 'So, who is it?'

"It's a _she_. She was my friend, and also the only woman I loved. She is the only thing missing on this lovely picture." He slid the cloth cover of a somewhat framed picture he was holding and touching from the first time he spoke to me, but I didn't dare to look at it.

I didn't know what to ask next, so he went on, "I even spotted her very sad which I don't have any idea why was she in that kind of mood when in fact, she should be happy enough."

"I was so happy to see her brighten up her mood with a smile. I was so happy to know that I was the man who made her smile that day because it was the only thing I could provide to the _woman_ I loved dearly. That was why I couldn't forget that day despite the sudden and heart-breaking news I heard about her. She was going to be a bride, but I was not her groom."

'Oh!' I exclaimed. As much as I wanted to ask, I didn't have the guts to ask why or I just don't like the idea of asking the reason.

He started talking again, letting out all of his sadness and regrets. "My heart was filled of mixed emotions that tortured me all the time. I wanted her to know how much I loved her. I wanted to confess my deep feelings for her, an affection more than a friend could give, but it was too late for her to know and would be useless even if I would say it. It couldn't change a thing. She doesn't love me like I love her."

I stared at him that I don't even know I was staring at him the whole time. He was hurt miserably; he wasn't able to confess and fight his love; he kept staring at a certain picture.

"It has been two years since I last saw her. I missed her so much. If I could just trap her in my arms once again like the last time, I would never ever let her go."

'Oh, you do love her that much? So, how is she now? Did you two met again?' I asked him drowning in his romantic words for someone he loved most.

"No, it's impossible to see her again. It's impossible to embrace her and feel her warmth again. It's impossible to see her smile again. Ever since we fell apart, I kept returning to this wooden bench every winter day, the same as this one, to watch her from afar. The last time I saw here, she was all alone sleeping on this same bench while holding a piece of paper on her hand. On the next day, she never woke up."

'Oh my!' That was all I could say as cold tears started to well up in my eyes. I wanted to hug him and comfort him, to make him feel he's not alone. He was so sad; his story was so sad that I could feel the same amount of forlorn and agony he was feeling. I glanced at his feature. He was trying so hard not to cry his heart out.

It was my first time hearing a story from a man's perspective. His love for the girl was indescribable and there was something in him that gives me comfort, too. The warm feeling my unexpected guest provided me after he came in was making me feel alive again despite the sadness in my frozen heart. Just his tender smile could content the impatient longing I felt. Just a brush of his eyelashes on his cheeks seemed to be an everlasting memory of a man who fills up my own share of yesterday. Just _him_ is enough to melt the ice on me. There was something on this man that reminds me of someone as captivating as him, someone from my past.

Suddenly, traces of my yesterday flashed on my mind. This cold winter morning, this falling snow, this bench and this man and his story, all were so familiar like it happened before in my memory.

He broke out the reverie in me as sounds of hard graphite rubbing against a smooth surface played in my ears. He scribbled something on the lower right part of the picture he was holding protectively ever since he came. No, it was a painting.

It was a painting of my fantasy, the same daydream I had when I was scanning good choices of vocabulary words to suit his question. I was_ 'fantasizing of you and me in a snowy winter's night playing like little childhood sweethearts, running and chasing each other. Happiness is painted emotionally in our faces and smiles.'_

I gasped heavily, shocked at the painting in front of me. He caught the scene so perfectly like he had seen my fantasies and that he knew me so well. This man seemed so inexplicable as if he was there in everyday of my life, in every cold winter morning there is.

As I continued revisiting the past, he continued writing on the canvass.

This cold winter morning and endless snowfall reminded me of my last sleep in a wooden bench as I pen the last two words I would always remember every snow season, words engraved in every white puffs of sky that would reminisce every bit of my nostalgic love story.

This man had provided me the same happiness I felt back when we were friends and more than that. This man… I never regretted the day I choose to love him.

'Eriol-kun…' I called out and collapsed on his welcoming arms. He felt me; he felt my presence through the painting he held close in his chest as he embraced me tightly against his body. We both knew this time, it's a real goodbye. The light shining on both of us is the calling of the heavens for me.

As he let go of the embrace, he held out the painting in front of me.

"Tomoyo-san, I will never forget you." He said softly from the bottom of his heart.

Then, a faction of pixie dust and traces of soft light came showering upon me while it ate up my invisible body. As my soul was slowly disappearing, I glanced at the bottom right portion of the painting where he artistically scribbled something.

"Deep thought"

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_I am always in a deep thought every time a snow falls from the sky._

STANDARD DISCLAIMER APPLIED HERE.

A/N: I don't know what came to my mind to write this kind of story. Forgive me for my grammars and confusing words. Honestly, they just came up to my mind and I just typed them in. I don't really have any idea what kind of story I am now presenting.

Oh! I forgot to put a note. _Italicized words_ – the past

This was supposed to be my December fanfic (that's why this story is set to wintertime), but I didn't finish writing this last year. Might as well make this as my very late Christmas and early Valentine treat! )

Please review!!


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